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Ltmk's bookshelf: read

Falling Behind
Seven Years of Bad Luck
Forever and Almost Always
Belong to You
Toxic
Deceiving Lies
What's Left of Me
Threat to Our Forever: The Sensual Edition
Adam, Enough Said
Abby's Survival
Ten Tiny Breaths
Sizzle
The Future of Our Past
Unbearable
Restore Me
Real
The Shoe
Heaven Sent
Unexpected Angel
Every Rose

Sunday 31 January 2016

RELEASE DAY BLITZ for SCHEMES GONE AMISS by COLLETTE CAMERON


Schemes Gone Amiss
by Collette Cameron
Series: Conundrums of the Misses Culpepper, Book 2
Genre: Historical Romance
Release Date: February 1, 2016



Intrepid and outspoken, Blythe Culpepper is dragged against her will to London for a Season. To her dismay, her guardian enlists the devilishly attractive Lord Leventhorpe, the one man she detests, to assist with her Come Out. Since their first encounter, hostile looks and cutting retorts have abounded whenever they meet, yet she cannot deny the way her body reacts when he’s near. So perhaps it’s no surprise that upon overhearing another woman scheming to entrap Tristan into marriage, Blythe risks all to warn him.

Haunted by childhood trauma, Tristan, the austere and controlled Marquis of Leventhorpe, usually avoids social gatherings. So why, against his better judgement, does he agree to aid his closet friend in presenting the Culpeppers to the ton? Might it be because one Culpepper stirs more than his interest? Blythe taxes him to his limits with her sharp wit and even sharper tongue. Yet, he cannot deny the beauty fascinates him.

However, when an old enemy comes calling, using Blythe to settle old scores, Tristan must decide if protecting his honor is more important than winning the heart of the woman he has come to love.



Schemes Gone Amiss First Kiss Scene

“You’ve a dab of dirt smearing your cheek, just there.” Lord Leventhorpe indicated her cheek with a long finger.
Covered in dog hair, mud, and grass. Perfectly lovely.
Blythe wiped her face. “Did I get it?”
“No. You smeared the blob more.” He chuckled and moved his fingers over his cheek, in imitation of where her smudge was. “You look rather like an adorable ragamuffin who’s been making mud pies.”
Blythe rubbed the spot again then examined her gloves. Earth marred the fingertips. Whether from wiping her face or from her tumbles in the park, she didn’t know. Probably ruined her gloves too. “Better?”
“No. Allow me.” He swiftly removed his black leather glove. “Lean my way a mite.”
Blythe complied, and he bent and brushed his thumb along her cheek a couple of times.
Sensation darted outward, raising the flesh along her shoulders and arms.
The shards of silver in his gaze glittered as he stared into her eyes, and his touch lingered a fraction longer than entirely necessary. “You have the loveliest eyes and the most perfect mouth I’ve ever seen.”
Such was the wonder in his voice, he almost seemed to speak to himself.
Blythe wet her lips, gone abruptly dry as autumn leaves.
His gaze riveted upon her mouth, tension tightened his lips.
He had the most beautifully sculpted mouth she’d ever noticed, and that included the Greek gods from last night’s ball. Were Lord Leventhorpe’s as warm and firm and tasty as they appeared?
What the blazes did Mr. Burlington’s lips look like?
Did he have lips?
He must, of course.
A wheel sank into a hole with bone-jarring force, abruptly interrupting Blythe’s mental rambling and pitching her and Lord Leventhorpe headfirst. His hat flew from his head as he tumbled from his seat onto his knees and reflexively wrapped his arms around her to keep her from plunging to the floor.
Their faces mere inches apart, Blythe couldn’t haul her gaze from the glinting specks in Lord Leventhorpe’s eyes. His focus sank to her lips, and his enlarged pupils revealed his arousal.
Would he kiss her?
Did she want him to?
Illogically, yes.
Breath suspended, she remained perfectly motionless. Waiting.
Lowering his head, he tightened his embrace an instant before his lips whispered across hers.
A brilliant light burst behind her eyes, and every bone in her body turned molten. She clutched his lapels, certain if she let go, she’d slither to the floor.
He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, and, sighing, she readily capitulated and parted her mouth, eager to taste more of him.





Book One: Wagers Gone Awry



Bestselling, award-winning author, Collette Cameron, has a BS in Liberal Studies and a Master's in Teaching. Author of the Castle Brides Series. Highland Heather Romancing a Scot Series, and Conundrums of the Misses Culpepper Series, Collette writes Regency and Scottish historicals and makes her home in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and five mini-dachshunds. Mother to three and a self-proclaimed Cadbury Chocolate chocoholic, Collette loves a good joke, inspirational quotes, flowers, trivia, and all things shabby chic and cobalt blue. You'll always find dogs, birds, quirky—sometimes naughty—humor, and a dash of inspiration in her novels.

Her motto for life? You can’t have too much chocolate, too many hugs, or too many flowers or books.

She’s thinking about adding shoes to that list.



Join Collette's Street Team
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Interested? Then click the banner to join!





Release Blitz for Low by Mary Elizabeth




Title: Low
Series: Low #1
Author: Mary Elizabeth
Genre: Romantic Suspense
 Release Date: February 1, 2016



Blurb

It’s hard living on the wrong side of the tracks.

Lowen Seely has a criminal record to prove it. Determined not to follow in his father’s footsteps, he fights instinct and tries honesty. But hunger becomes painful, and bills are due. Forced to choose between what is right and wrong, the boy from the hood learns abiding by the rules is nearly impossible when corruption is in your blood.

Falling for an outlaw has changed everything.

Poesy Ashby is the definition of ride or die, even when it means turning her back on freedom. The girl from the suburbs gives conformity the middle finger. Bonnie and Clyde have nothing on her love story.

On the run with consequences in the rearview mirror, Lowen and Poesy accept the truth: they are the bad guys.

But can they get away with their crimes?





Purchase Links

99c

AMAZON US / UK






Excerpt

“Keep the engine running,” I say. “If I’m not out in five minutes, leave.”

Poe nods her head, but doesn’t argue.

When the nine o’clock hour comes, both she and I watch the clock on the dashboard turn to one minute after.

“You’ll need to keep your mask on, Poesy. Make sure none of your hair is showing,” I say. “Keep your head down the entire time.”

“Okay,” she answers in a small voice.

“If you see cops—”

“I know what to do, Lowen. I know you want me to leave you.” She sighs. “But I don’t know if I can.”

Despite our circumstances, I smirk. “Hopefully you won’t have to.”

At nine thirty, Poe and I switch seats, and she gets behind the wheel while I load the pistol. With hands that shake uncontrollably, I place the ski mask over my head but don’t pull it down my face. I help Poesy with hers, tucking in every stray strand of hair so they remain unseen.

She grabs my wrist, and our eyes meet. I see fear combined with love and loyalty in her stare.

I kiss her knuckles and promise with the chance of lying, “We’re going to be okay.”

Unlike when we drove into the garage, the streets are alive and filled with a variety of automobiles, and dirty sidewalks carry several pedestrians. The forty-second drive to the bank feels like forty years. Thick blood courses through my veins, and I feel it flow through arteries and vessels, nourishing muscle and bone. My head echoes with the thump, thump, thump of my hard heartbeat. Every breath is shallower than the one before it.

“Pull down your mask,” I say, but my voice sounds foreign and feels a million miles away.

As Poe drives into California Credit Union’s parking lot, I grip the cold steel in my hand.

The edges of my vision blur; I’m blinded by adrenaline.

My skin crawls like I’m covered in spiders; I’m delirious with edginess.

“Your ski mask,” Poesy shrieks. “Cover your fucking face, Lowen.”

My girl reaches over and pulls it down for me. The car stops to a screeching halt, and reality crashes into me in a brutal rush, stripping me of air and voice.

“If we’re in this, you need to go,” Poesy says in a calm but stern tone, hidden behind her black mask.

There’s peace in her eyes.

There’s strength in the girl who stayed with me when I was locked up.

The one who’s remained by my side, believing and starving all at the same time.

With the gun in my hand and determination in my heart, I leave Poesy in the car and push open the glass double doors into the bank.

As I step foot onto the burgundy carpet, I yell, “Everyone down on the fucking floor!”





Author Bio


Mary Elizabeth is an up and coming author who finds words in chaos, writing stories about the skeletons hanging in your closets.

Known as The Realist, Mary was born and raised in Southern California. She is a wife, mother of four beautiful children, and dog tamer to one enthusiastic Pit Bull and a prissy Chihuahua. She's a hairstylist by day but contemporary fiction, new adult author by night. Mary can often be found finger twirling her hair and chewing on a stick of licorice while writing and rewriting a sentence over and over until it's perfect. She discovered her talent for tale-telling accidentally, but literature is in her chokehold. And she's not letting go until every story is told.


Author Links